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So we will wait, seduce, manipulate until there is nothing left for her but us.
18
EVER
Blinking awake, the taste of the night’s mistakes still heavy on my tongue, my head is a jumbled mess like someone tossed my brain in a blender and hit puree. Fucking vodka. I squint at the window; it’s darker than it has any right to be. What time is it? How long have I been out? Groaning, I squint at the clock and see it’s late Saturday night. Still. I’d been hoping it was Sunday already. Unless a day has passed, but I doubt it the way I still feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, only for it to reverse and do it again.
A knock shatters the silence, sharp and unexpected.
“Ever? Are you awake?” The voice is low, almost a whisper, but there’s no mistaking Damien’s cool tone.
“Yeah. Come in,” I say, but my voice is hoarse, revealing more of my vulnerability than I’d like. The door inches open, and he sticks his head around the door. His pale skin and dark attire are like a shadowcome to life, and those light grey eyes fix on me with an intensity that both unnerves and captivates.
“Hey.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets, looking casual, but it’s a façade. Even I know it.
“Hey.”
He steps inside, a fluid motion that reminds me of a ghost on TV shows. The door shuts with a soft click, sealing us in this space that suddenly feels too small, too intimate. I gulp, pushing up to sit against my headboard.
“Everything okay?” My voice trails off as he lifts a finger to his lips, signalling silence. There’s something about the slow, intentional way he moves toward me that makes my heart race, but not from fear. It’s anticipation, maybe, or just the weird buzz of seeing him out of his element.
“I should be asking you that,” he murmurs, and there’s a softness to his voice I’m not used to, not that I’ve heard him speak all that often while I’ve been here. He pauses by the dresser.
“I’ve been better.”
“I bet.” He takes another step, closing the distance between us. I should be wary, on guard. But as Damien stands there, looking more human than the brooding Baron I’ve grown accustomed to in such a short amount of time, my defences start to crumble.
Despite the discomfort it brings, I find myself trapped in the pull of those stormy slate eyes, unable to look away.
“Ever,” Damien starts, his voice low. “The guys and I have to head out for a bit. A meeting.” Hiseyebrows knit together, a silent show of concern. “Will you be okay here by yourself?”
I blink, processing the question. The house feels too quiet, too large. Being alone doesn’t usually bother me, but in this unfamiliar place, with my head still spinning from the vodka and the darkness creeping into the early morning, it’s different.
“Meeting? At this time? What are you? Vampires?” I try to make a joke, and he gives me a cursory smile.
“Something like that,” he murmurs, but I can’t tell if he’s joking or not. I mean, Iknowhe’s joking. Vampires don’t exist. Right? I wouldn’t put it past this enigmatic man to be something otherworldly. He has that ethereal quality to him, making him stand out from the crowd. Then I shake my head at myself. I’ve seen him in daylight, so he’s definitely not a vampire.
Why are you even still thinking about this, you fucking idiot?
“Uhm yeah, fine,” I lie to his question from moments ago, forcing strength into my words, which I hope he doesn’t notice in the slight tremor in my voice. “I don’t need anyone to watch over me.”
“Good,” he replies, but his gaze lingers a moment longer as if he’s trying to read the truth behind my lie. It’s clear that he’s torn between leaving and staying, his protective instincts battling with respect for my independence.
In this brief interaction, I’ve seen more of Damien than I thought I would—the concern etched in his features, the careful consideration of if I’ll be okaywithout them here. It’s a side of him that I’ll bet is rare and unexpected, leaving me wondering about the layers I’ve yet to uncover.
My mind races, trying to balance the weight of solitude against the anchor of independence. There’s a tangle of unease in my gut, but I can’t let that scare me into clinging to someone else’s shadow. I’ve always been the master of my ship, steering through rough waters with a steady hand.
“Yep.” My eyes drop to his bare arm sticking out of a black t-shirt, and I press my lips together at the sight of the carefully carved-out cuts in his flesh. Thin, deliberate lines that map out a hidden pain. They’re harsh of a story untold, and I wonder what demons he battles in the dark, in the silence. It shocks me to see these scars so openly displayed, as if they’re just another part of him he doesn’t bother to hide. My throat tightens, but I swallow the words that threaten to spill over.
It’s none of my business.
“I’ll check on you when we get back.”
I nod, and he leaves me. The room feels colder when the door clicks shut behind him. Alone, I sit up, wrapping my arms around myself—not for warmth, but in a self-made promise that I’ll be okay. Just me, by myself. In this big old house with creepy portraits and intense men.
Trying to shake the cobwebs from my head, my mind becomes a bit clearer after that interaction with the exquisite Baron, who is under my skin, whether I want him there or not now.
What was in that vodka?
